


To find a kiss of yours

by anonana



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bisexual Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, If you want to cry read this, M/M, a lot of fluff at the end, i said FUCK CANON, there is no smut you pervs, yen and triss are soft and cute, yen is the protector of the gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23429704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonana/pseuds/anonana
Summary: After the dragon hunt, Geralt and Jaskier part ways. What the bard doesn't know is that he has left one of his most valuable possessions, a notebook where he writes and pours his heart out, at the camp. The witcher founds it.Years pass until they see each other again.(Or where Yen is tired of seeing how depressed they are without each other and tries to bring them back together)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 22
Kudos: 271





	1. The key

**Author's Note:**

> I've only seen the show, don't judge me. Also, English is my third language so sorry if there is a spelling mistake.  
> Enjoy the fic :D

_ Everywhere I go, all I ever see _

_ Are all the little ways that we used to be _

_ People that I know only ever speak _

_ Like everythin' is headin' for catastrophe _

_ There's nothing I could do, I don't get to choose _

_ Even if I could rewrite the history _

_ It's clear to see _

_ That I'd still be _

_ Loving you _

***

**GERALT**

Geralt didn’t know why, but he kept the journal with him. He didn’t read it or look at it for weeks because, every time he did, he immediately thought of the bard and how poorly he had treated him.

He was used to having him by his side. And what now? 

When nearly two months had passed from the dragon hunt, and the loss of his dearest friend assaulted him whenever he heard someone singing his songs (or when the silence in his journeys began to make him uncomfortable), the witcher felt the urge to read it. 

It was a warm night, he had set up a camp. 

_ “The Child of Surprise, the djinn, all of it! If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!” _

He couldn’t stop thinking about it- how his cheerful voice had suddenly become quiet and broken. 

_ “Right. Uh…Right then. I’ll…I’ll go get the rest of the story from the others.” _

And then he had left in such a hurry, that he had forgotten to take his precious notebook with him.

Geralt glanced at his bag, resting near Roach.

He knew how protective Jaskier was over the object. Not knowing why, he skimmed through it trying to find something... but what? What was he searching? A proof of something, a proof of a feeling. 

The witcher let out a sigh, feeling stupid, and proceeded to close the notebook. But, in the last moment, three words caught his eyes. 

_ Her sweet kiss. _

Wasn’t that the song Jaskier was writing before they parted ways? Geralt had never listened closely to the lyrics.

So when he read them and a peculiar letter to him that came after, his slow-racing heart almost stopped beating. 

  
  


_ 3 years later _

He arrived at Novigrad in summer. 

Geralt was soaked in sweat, wanted to eat and have a cold bath.

Roach normally didn’t bear well the warm weather, but going through the city just made her more stressed. The witcher wasn’t sure why was there such a big congregation of people and he didn’t care.

He had bigger problems. 

Over the years, Yennefer and he had talked about their relationship and were in good terms. Slowly, very slowly, they became good friends. Geralt still had to work out how to trust her more and understand that she was there for him. 

They taught things to each other, and the witcher began to feel like he wasn’t so alone in the world. Sometimes, when he visited his friend and the day turned to night while they were talking, he allowed himself to be open and express his feelings. Yes, witchers had feelings- he became aware of it the hard way. 

Anytime Yen tried to ask him about the bard, he changed the subject of their conversation. Maybe he wasn’t ready to address that matter. Not knowing if… well, it didn’t matter.

Not to long ago, maybe a week or so, she had sent him a message in which she asked him to come as quick as possible to Novigrad. His help was needed. Yen hadn’t specified, however, what had happened.

So the witcher finished his contract and rushed to meet his friend. He knew she would be able to track him the moment he entered the city.

He made sure Roach was in good hands before entering the tavern where he’d be staying, and then headed to the bar to get some ale. Geralt knew people were glancing, some with fear, some with intrigue, at him;  _ Toss a coin to your witcher _ had restored his reputation, but still, people occasionally run away from his path thinking he’d harm them. He killed monsters, not humans.

He’d learned to ignore them through the years but, at the same time, he missed his bard’s soft voice and protective eyes telling him that it didn’t matter. 

Fuck, he missed Jaskier a lot. 

“Geralt!” Yen said behind him. The witcher turned to her and saw her smiling “It’s great to see you! We haven’t seen each other since spring!”

She didn’t touch him or hug him because she knew Geralt didn’t like physical contact. 

“That is true, but you know I can’t come anytime I want” he answered, “How is Triss?” The two witches had been in a relationship for the past two years, and they lived together in a cottage not so far from Novigrad. 

“Great, as always”, a spark appeared in her eyes when she talked about her partner. She ordered herself another ale and sat by his side, they chatted a while. The witch told him how they decided to move to the city and now lived in a proper house; she mentioned briefly that it would be great to have children running through the hallways, and they both had smiled imagining that future. 

Geralt hmmed and nodded through the conversation, but didn’t want to add details about his life. There was not much to tell, after all. 

“Let’s not waste more time, Yen”, he said after a comfortable silence that had been installed between them. “Tell me about that emergency”.

His friend’s smile faded a little and guilt took over her expression. 

“Geralt, please don’t be upset with me. It was the only way you’d come here”. She sighed and looked at his amber eyes. “Triss and I wanted to invite you to our new house, to spend a few days with us. We haven’t seen you much and we thought it’d be a great idea”. Oh.

“Yen, I don’t know if…”

“Please, Geralt. I assure you it will be a great time”, seeing the doubt in his eyes, she added “at least come to dine with us. And tomorrow you can decide if you’re staying or not.”

“Hmm”

She smiled. 

“I knew you’d agree.”

The witcher had to admit it, it had been a great time. His friends gave him a tour of the house, showed him the room where he’d be staying for a week (if he wanted) and, after they had dinner, went to the living room. 

All the loneliness Geralt had been feeling over the months, all the memories of people throwing and shouting things at him disappeared for a couple of hours. Being surrounded by his two (and only) friends was such a good balm for his broken heart, for _ the silence _ . 

He wondered how was life treating his bard, Jaskier. Was he still hurt? The witcher was sure of it. 

The cruelty of his words was present in almost every one of his thoughts. He stared at the fireplace of the living room, completely lost. 

“Geralt, dear,” said Triss making him come back to reality “we have a gift for you.”

He frowned. The only person that had made him a gift was out of his life now. The witch stood up from the couch while she took out an envelope from one of her pockets. Yennefer, who had been sitting beside her, watched her go to him with a warm smile. 

Geralt leaned forward and reached out his arm to take the box. 

“It’s not a lot, but it’s something,” remarked Triss. She went back to where she was sitting and put her head on her partner’s shoulder. They intertwined their hands and watched the witcher unpack his present.

He smirked. It was a key. 

“Why?” was the only question he could formulate. “What is this?”

His friends chuckled softly. 

“It’s a key, dumbass” answered Yennefer. Seeing that the witcher hadn’t understood yet, she continued talking, “It’s the key to our house. Well, a copy. So you can come anytime you want”.

“But I can’t accept this. It’s your house, your home. I’m a stranger”

“You’re our friend, Geralt”, Triss was talking to him like he was a little child, “and we want you in our lives. Soon…”, she looked now at her girlfriend, smiling, “soon we may have kids and it’d be great to have you around. You could be their cool uncle”.

The witcher laughed at that. 

His friends looked at him like three extra arms had grown suddenly on his body. 

“What?”

“We haven’t heard you laugh in some time.” 

He looked at Yennefer, knowing what she meant. He couldn’t remember laughing after Jaskier left. 

“I’m glad we’re friends. I’m glad we’ll be family soon” Geralt said simply and smiled again. Triss looked like she was about to cry. 

“We’re glad too, Geralt”.

They talked a bit more after that, and when the witcher tried to go back to the tavern his friends wouldn’t let him. Yen told him she’d sent someone to pack his things and to bring Roach to their house. She assured him again and again that the mare was in good hands.

He had no choice but to spend the night there. 

Triss went to bed soon because she had some errands to do tomorrow early. When she kissed Yennefer to say goodnight, Geralt looked away.

He wasn’t jealous or something like that. 

It was their intimacy that made him feel bad; he wanted that, he could’ve had that. They looked at each other with so much love that made him want to go looking for his bard and… apologize. 

He could use the excuse of the notebook, the same one he was holding right now (the one he always carried with him), to see him. Well, he had that excuse for almost three years; the witcher knew they’d been in the same cities at the same time more than once. He was just too coward to go after him. 

He feared Jaskier would never accept his apologies. And he knew he couldn’t bear it.

“Hey, since when do you have a diary?” asked Yen. She was sitting now in the armchair that was in front of his. 

Geralt hadn’t noticed he had taken it out of his pocket and that was absently turning its pages. He did it often lately, sometimes even recited the bard’s poetry from memory. 

“It’s not mine” his mouth babbled before he could even think of a proper answer. Fuck.

“So whose it is then… Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

No. He was not going to talk about it. Not now. Never. 

The witcher stormed off and went to his room. Yennefer called his name but he didn’t answer. 

Geralt spent half of the night looking at the ceiling of his room and the other half writing in Jaskier’s notebook. He’d been doing it for the last three years. 

***

**YEN AND TRISS**

“Yen, my love, it’s not going to end well,” said Triss from the bed. She was still awake when Yen had entered the room.

Yenn put on her nightgown and joined her. She had _ the look _ in her eyes, the same one she had when she was planning something really good or really bad. Triss caressed her lover’s hair while she was talking.

“You had to see his look when he thought I was still talking to you. He’s still devastated.”, argued Yen “I don’t want to see him like that, like when we first met after the dragon hunt.”

“But we don’t know what happened between them, darling. Maybe they hurt each other so much that the relationship can’t be repaired”.

“Maybe not. Look, we both know they’re really depressed. Geralt laughed for the first time today, and it was because you told him he was going to be an uncle”.

“And Jaskier is… well, you saw him the other day” said Triss, reminiscing the bard’s sad eyes. 

Yennefer sighed. 

“So you get why we have to bring them back together.”

“Okay, you’re right” accepted her girlfriend. “But if it goes bad it’s going to be your fault”. Yen smiled and kissed her softly. She loved her so much it hurt. “So, when are we going to approach Jaskier?” 

Yennefer gave her a crooked smile. 

“Do you know that there’s going to be a music festival in a few days, here in Novigrad?”

Triss also smiled. 

“I assume our bard will be there.”

“That’s why we saw him the other day, he is rehearsing for the festival.”

“And what a coincidence that you invited Geralt to spend some days with us right now”. 

Yen pushed her girlfriend gently and chuckled. “Hey, I wasn’t sure if Jaskier was going to come to the festival, so _ it is  _ a coincidence!”. Triss frowned “What’s wrong, love?

“How are we going to get them together? Novigrad is a big city after all and it’d be difficult for them to run _ casually _ into each other.”

Yen chuckled again. 

“I’m so glad you asked this”, she said and proceeded to explain her beautiful girlfriend her plans. 

  
  
  



	2. The notebook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos, lovely comments and bookmarks! I'm so glad you're liking the fic and it means a lot to me <3   
> I wanted to add that I'm gonna post one chapter per day.  
> Also, sorry for all the angst.  
> I'm a whore for drama. Thanks for reading :,)

_ Well will you fill my head with stories _

_ 'Til I close my eyes and dream until the dawn _

_ And when I'm sleeping tell me secrets _

_ Tell me things you've never told no one before _

_ And when you wake up hiding nothing _

_ Maybe you'll know how it feels to be born _

_ I could wake up feeling something for the first time in so long _

_ *** _

**JASKIER**

Jaskier had many lovers in his brief life, but he had never fallen in love with anyone. That was, of course, until Geralt of Rivia arrived. He’d been such a naive person to think that the White Wolf would feel the same as he did. 

When someone doesn’t love us back, we tend to think it’s the end of the world. Sometimes, this feeling it’s worse than heartbreak because we don’t have any memories to hold onto. Just romanticised fantasies. 

And then the emptiness comes and it swallows us whole. We try to think about good things, things that’ll inspire us again and we can’t find anything. 

That’s what happened to Jaskier the first year after Geralt had _ tossed  _ him away.

He’d lost his muse, his everything. Well, he was capable of writing new stuff; the problem was he couldn’t write funny verses anymore, and all his songs were about heartbreak and loss.

But, after a while, everything started to come back to normal, to how things were before the witcher. That’s what he wanted, what  _ he needed _ to think.

That same year Yennefer had approached him. He’d never known how had she tracked him, but again, she was a witch. She could do anything and make it look badass, right?

The bard didn’t expect her to apologize for her behaviour nor to tell him she had a girlfriend. They chatted a little, mainly about her life and how she had changed. At the end of their meeting she’d made the question- she had asked why wasn’t he with Geralt. 

“He didn’t want to answer, and I was hoping you would.”

“Well, my darling, I have always blamed you for it.”, he had said, boiling with anger “But now I think that Geralt is just a fucking bastard without feelings.”

In the second year, he slept with a lot of people. All their faces and names were instantly forgotten because he was capable of remembering just one person, the same person whose lips he’d never touched. 

However, Jaskier managed to somehow write (like he did before everything) when the third year started. He hid his pain as best as he could and sang cheerful melodies that never reached his heart. He laughed and made jokes about anything that happened in his life; and, when he was with someone, his thoughts were occupied with certain witcher’s face.

The bard was still empty, and the only spark of joy he got was when he heard people applauding and singing with him some of his most famous melodies. 

When the world around him was silent he had time to think, and that wasn’t good at all. His mind was filled with the same memory, repeating itself over and over again. Echoing at the back of his head whenever he saw someone similar to Geralt. 

_ “The Child of Surprise, the djinn, all of it! If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!” _

Maybe he wasn’t so well after all. 

The show had to go on. 

He was walking through the streets of Novigrad while humming some old song. The festival would begin soon and everyone was excited- people often approached Jaskier to tell him they couldn’t wait to hear him sing his new compositions. 

He had plenty. (Plenty recycled.)

The bard would open and close the festival, as he was the guest of honour. For fuck’s sake, he was Julian Alfred Pankratz, Vizconde de Lettenhove. 

But the children that shouted at him only knew about Jaskier, The White Wolf’s bard. 

“Jaskier!” shouted a familiar voice behind him. 

The called one turned just in time to see Yennefer running and grinning at him. Before he could even say hello, she embraced him tightly. 

“Dear Yen, we’ve seen each other two days ago,” he said, “have you missed me that much?”

“You know I always enjoy your company, bard. I’ve been looking for you all day long.”

“And what I can do for you?” he asked and saw her doubting a little as if she didn’t know how to say something. 

“Well, you know how Triss and I have moved to Novigrad recently.”, the witch started and the bard nodded, they had told him the news a few days ago “No one has visited us yet, and it would be a great pleasure for us to dine with you tonight.”

He was surprised by her words. Yes, they had talked and seen each other a lot lately, but the bard had never thought that they’d reached that level of intimacy. However, something in him wasn’t ready to face them in their lovely house, seeing them looking at each other like there was nothing else in the world. 

“You know I’m the first to sign up for this kind of invitation, but I’m really busy with the festival and I can’t.”, he sighed “I’m sorry, Yen.”

Could witches detect lies? She saw her excitement fade, which made something twist inside him. 

“Oh, okay.”, Yen wasn’t smiling anymore “Maybe another time? Next month or so?”

“I’ll be there...”, he said with a smile, but he knew it didn’t reach his eyes “and uh… I’m sure it will be great. Sorry again”

The witch hid her disappointment by smiling and telling him it didn’t matter. They talked a bit more, about Triss and the festival, before saying goodbye.

When the bard turned away in order to go to the tavern he was staying in, Yen called him again. 

“I’ve something that might interest you.”, said the witch. 

“What is it?” 

“Geralt visited us last spring…”

“And why would that interest me?” he interrupted her. “You know we can’t bear the sight of each other.” 

“Because he has left something for you.” She was still holding his hand as if he’d run at the mention of his ex companion.

He wanted to, but he wouldn’t. 

“It’s a notebook. He told us not to read it, just to give to you because it was personal.”

Jaskier couldn’t believe her words. He did fucking what?

“You’re telling me Geralt of Fucking Rivia carried a notebook three years to give it to you now? For me?” 

“Yes”, she answered with an apologetic smile. 

“Fucking bastard.” 

He let go of her hand and started to walk away, but then came back to her and said:

“You know what? I’ll come to dine with you tonight. Fuck the festival.”

He hadn’t realised he had left his journal behind until the first nights form the dragon hunt had passed. The bard had searched for it like crazy through his travel bag but then realised that it was still at the camp. He was not going there again, so he had shrugged his shoulders and continued on with his journey. 

It had never crossed his mind that someone, Geralt, would find and keep it for three years. There were written his most personal thoughts. 

His heart was transcribed in poetry and songs, but one didn’t have to be smart to understand what was he implying. Every composition had the same theme: his unrequited love for the witcher. 

Geralt had kept it three years. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking Fuck.

Why did he give it to Yennefer now? Couldn’t have the witcher tracked him somehow?

Maybe it was better like that. 

Jaskier didn’t want to talk to him. He wasn’t ready for a conversation, he knew he would cry at the exact moment he saw him. 

He had so much things to say that day, in the mountains, but couldn’t. His heart was just too heartbroken. 

However, that didn’t matter now- he wouldn’t even see him, right? And the bard would have a great time with two of his friends, then he’d take the notebook and go to the tavern. 

Yennefer knew the witcher and he were not in good terms, that they hadn’t even seen each other in three years. She just wanted to be a good friend for both of them, and that’s why she wanted to give Jaskier his journal. 

Right?

***

**YEN AND TRISS**

Yennefer was a little nervous. What if Triss was right and everything went bad?

Her girlfriend was waiting for her in their bedroom while she was putting on her new gown. Their guest would arrive anytime. 

“You’re worried?”, said Triss. It sounded more like a fact than a question. Yen watched her through the mirror: she was sitting at the bed, arms crossed.

“Of course I am. They might not talk to me ever again after this.”

“Can you repeat everything that happened? Maybe it’s not that bad.” Triss stood up and started pacing through the room.

“I tracked Jaskier instantly but I told him I had been looking for him the whole day. I invited him, he refused. And then, when we said goodbye, I told him that Geralt had left a notebook for him. I think that he was about to start screaming or crying. Or both.” 

The purple-eyed witch grimaced when she saw her girlfriend looking at her with disbelief.

“Didn’t it cross your mind that maybe, _ just maybe _ , Geralt wouldn’t want him to know about the notebook? You don’t even know what’s in there!”

She didn’t have to guess to know that it was something really personal. First, there was Geralt’s look of complete sadness while he was holding it. Then, the way the bard’s hand had held hers when she’d mentioned it, and the horror dancing in his expression after that. 

She went to her girlfriend and cupped her face. She closed her arms around her waist.

“Triss, love, we can do this. You said it last night.”

“I didn’t know we’d have to lie so much. I don’t like lying to them.”

“I know, but we’re doing it for them.” exclaimed the witch and then kissed her girlfriend on the forehead. “I love you.”

Triss closed her eyes. 

“I love you too, my dear.” 

Yen was going to kiss her again, but then someone knocked on the door downstairs.

“I’ll go” announced Geralt’s voice from another room.

The witches looked at each other with panic. Their meeting wasn’t supposed to happen like that.

Yen didn’t have to say anything, because Triss was already running through the door while screaming “Geralt, wait!”

***

**JASKIER**

Jaskier had completely calmed himself when he arrived at his friends’ house. He knew they couldn’t have read his journal because they knew how protective he was with his compositions. The witcher didn’t understand basic things such as privacy, so the bard knew he definitely had read some of his poetry. His only hope was that his words had bored the witcher enough before he reached the last thing the bard had written.

Now Jaskier was standing at the front door, with his hands clutched in his pockets while waiting for someone to welcome him in.

He heard fast steps, the door started to open and then-

“Hello, Jaskier!” received him Triss, “Sorry if we kept you waiting at the door, dear. Yen had some problems with her dress and I was helping her when you arrived.”

“You were helping her dress or undress?” joked the bard, to which Triss laughed. He entered the house and didn’t have the time to even look at the paintings of the walls before the witch took his hand and dragged him to the dining room. Oh, wow, someone was hungry.

He heard Yennefer’s voice saying something, but wasn’t sure what. 

“I hope your dress is fine now, Yen. Triss told me about the  _ problem. _ ”

His friend didn’t answer to his joke. In fact, she wasn’t even looking at him. 

Her and Triss’ glance was directed to the opposite side of the room, where a tall figure was standing. The room was full of candles and the light was dim, so he couldn’t see who was approaching them until there were two feet between them. 

And when the candlelight poured into his face, all of Jaskier’s nerves squealed.

No. 

No. 

Nope.

He had thought, even dreamed, of how their encounter would happen. The bard always said what he thought and the witcher begged him for forgiveness, sometimes they both cried. And when Jaskier was all alone in his room, wondering what could’ve happened if they had known how to communicate, he allowed his imagination to explore further. Yet after three years, all that could both manage to say was: 

“What are you doing here?”

  
  



	3. I’m weak, my love, and I am wanting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for your support! I promise that this is the most angsty chapter.  
> Enjoy the reading!   
> Love you <3

_ The world was on fire and no one could save me but you _

_ It's strange what desire will make foolish people do _

_ I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you _

_ And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you _

***

**YEN AND TRISS**

Yen thought that the first dinner she’d have with her friends in her new house would be a little bit noisier. But, right now, all that could be heard was forks and knives accompanied by the tension in every one of their movements.

Triss was looking at her from the other side of the table like she was going to say  _ told you so _ at any moment. 

Their guests had stayed because she had begged them to do so. 

“You don’t have to talk to each other, but please stay.” she had said. Jaskier was already at the door; however, he’d paused when Yen almost started crying.

Geralt had stayed frozen where he had first talked to his former bard. Triss was dealing with the witcher and Yen with Jaskier. 

They’d both agreed to stay for the same reason: they didn’t want to see the witches upset. And now everyone was silent, and the idiots couldn’t even look at each other or the empty plates before them were really interesting suddenly. 

Yen was screaming internally. She was going to make this work. 

“So, Jaskier, tell us about the festival.”, Triss commenced, putting an end to the uncomfortable silence and tension that were floating around them. Yen gave her a grateful look “Is everything going according to the plan?”

The purple-eyed witch watched him taking a little too much wine for a gulp before answering.

“Oh, I wish.” he cleared his throat “One of the stages has been broken and the workers are trying to repair it before the festival starts.”

“And if they don’t?” asked Yennefer. She saw from the corner of her right eye how Geralt had tensed at her words. The witch suppressed a smile. 

“Well, I’d have to open the show trying to avoid a huge hole. It’d be an interesting dance” they all laughed at that. Well, Geralt didn’t. 

It was going to be a long night. She was pouring herself some more wine when the witcher talked. 

“Yeah, it would.”

Jaskier’s gaze shifted from Triss to Geralt at the second he heard him. They were looking at each other now, a whole silent conversation happening between them. Her white-haired friend looked so devastated at the fury in Jaskier’s eyes. 

It was like they were going to kill each other. 

Yen glared at her girlfriend asking for help, but she had the same panicked look in her eyes.

“Geralt!” Yennefer said suddenly and the witcher startled. Whatever was going on between the two of them was broken. He looked at her, and she didn’t know what to ask but “How’s monster hunting going?”

He frowned. 

“Good.”, he said and paused, redirecting his eyes to the bard again “There’s a lot of silence in my journeys, though.”

Yen wanted to add something to that, but Jaskier interrupted her. 

“Isn’t that what you’d always wanted?”

Another long silence began to unfold. She rubbed her temples just in time to see Triss mouthing to her _ let’s go _ . Their friends didn’t even notice that both of them had stood up and gone to their chambers, leaving them alone. 

***

**GERALT**

The witcher had smelled chamomile and honey long before Triss had intercepted him and gone to open the door herself. He knew something wasn’t adding up, but didn’t mention it. 

And then he heard his voice at the door. 

He felt dizzy. 

When Geralt saw him standing there, so cheerful and smiley, he had wanted to hug his bard so bad. 

How many times had he imagined their encounter would be? Too many to be counted. He was impregnated with his voice, his smell, his everything and couldn’t think of anything else. Couldn’t even look at him the first half of the night without wanting to kneel in front of Jaskier and beg him to forgive for all the things he had done. 

His chest was hurting as if all the words he hadn’t said accumulated there.

But then their eyes met and Geralt seemed to forget how to breathe. His bard had looked at him like he’d said something terrible. 

Those blue eyes were full of anger and… pain?

“How’s life treating you?” asked Jaskier after they were left alone. His tone was harsh. 

“Good.” answered the witcher. _ Terribly without you. _ “And how are you, Jask?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What… Jask? I’ve always called you that.” Geralt was confused. 

“Yeah, you  _ called _ me that. But as we’re not in each others’ life right now… please don’t.”

The witcher could discern the pain in the bard’s voice even more. If they were another Geralt and another Jaskier, he would’ve cupped his face, tell him how sorry he was.

However, all of the speeches he had practised and practised through the years were forgotten because the only thing he could focus on were those blue eyes. There wasn’t a big distance between them, but to him, it looked like a whole sea. 

If Geralt wanted, he could reach out and touch him. Tell him about how he felt. 

“I see Yennefer has invited you too”, he said instead because he didn’t know what else to do. 

“Yeah. But we both know her plans haven’t worked”

***

**JASKIER**

_ Just say you’re sorry and I’m yours. Just say it.  _

He was looking at the witcher hoping to find something, but he didn’t know what. It was obvious that Geralt was just as uncomfortable as he, and his face was full of displeasure. He wanted to go, toss Jaskier away again as soon as he could. 

All of the bard’s suppositions were thrown aside when the witcher opened his mouth to say:

“The road is silent and lonely without you.”

Jaskier was sure Geralt could hear his heart racing really fast. 

“Wasn’t that what you wanted?” he asked, repeating the question from before. 

“Hmm”, three or four seconds of silence and then “No, Jaskier I… ugh… I didn’t mean anything I said. I was angry and…”

“You decided to tell me that I was a fucking burden to you?”

“I’m sorry.” let out the witcher, his words full of honesty.

No, that was not how he had imagined it. No. His heart was still hurting like the first day- the wound had started to heal but, after seeing the witcher, now was bleeding like crazy. Jaskier had much more to say. 

“You threw two decades of friendship to the garbage, and for what?” he was shouting now, all the suppressed feelings bursting out of him. The bard pointed the witcher with his index finger, but he didn’t touch him. “Do you know how devastated I was? How worthless I felt?” his voice cracked.

“I realised it the moment those words got out of my mouth…” 

Did that meant that… that the witcher was apologising now because he didn’t have any other choice? 

“Why didn’t you look for me if you were so sorry?”, the bard couldn’t hold his tears any longer. The image of Geralt blurred before him “Was it because of the notebook? You were sorry but didn’t want to face me after… after..?”

Geralt stood up abruptly, leaning forwards and holding the table with such force that his knuckles went white. 

“How do you know about the journal, that I have it?”

He didn’t have the right to interrogate him like he was a criminal. Jaskier imitated the witcher’s position.

“Yen told me, and if it wasn’t for her I’d still be thinking I had lost it forever,” he said and saw the other’s confused expression “I don’t know why you look so surprised, you gave it to her last spring and told her to give it to me.” his voice was full of anger.

“What? No. That is not true.” replayed quickly Geralt “I still have it with me.” 

He did it unconsciously, but the bard saw him shift his position to touch one part of his armour as if to assure himself that the item was there. Jaskier used the sleeve of his shirt to dry his eyes before talking again.

“And you’ve read all of it.” he assumed. The witcher nodded slowly and the bard’s chest tightened. “That’s why you wouldn’t reach out to me? Because you realised how much I loved you and couldn’t bear to see me anymore?”

I still love you, he wanted to add. But he didn’t. 

***

**GERALT**

When his bard said those words for the first time, the witcher felt like he was about to start crying. It was enough pain to see his… friend like that, crying because of him, to now hear him using the past tense when talking about his love for him _. _

Feeling things sucked. 

“Stop saying those things. You know it’s not true”

“How would I know if all you did was  _ hmm _ and nod when we travelled together!” Jaskier was exaggerating. They were both conscious of that.

Geralt was struggling to express his thoughts, how the only thing he wanted to do was to... the witcher didn’t know even what to do. Or didn’t want to accept it. 

“I didn’t go after you because I was ashamed of how badly I had treated you! And when I read your poetry I’d never thought I would find a letter, directed to me,” he growled, “ where you described what you felt! How could I face you after that, knowing how much I’d hurt you from when we first met to the dragon hunt?”

Jaskier had a surprised look on his face at hearing the broken voice of the witcher. His cyan eyes seemed to scan his whole soul.

“You might have your witchery extra senses, but you must be a real fool to never had noticed how crazy I was for you.”

“How?! How could’ve I noticed when all you did was fuck with every stranger you met?!”

Fuck, Geralt didn’t mean to say that. He really didn’t- the whole situation was being just too much. 

Before he could even think of apologising the bard had stormed off, leaving him alone int the room. 

Out of fury, he slammed his fists into the table. Again. And again. The witcher heard some glass breaking. After that, he ran behind Jaskier. 

He was not letting the bard go form his life again like that.

***

**YEN AND TRISS**

“You can’t play with someone’s feelings like that, Yenn! Have you seen what has happened?!” Triss shouted form the other side of the bedroom “They have been screaming at each other for half an hour!”

“Can you stop doing the fucking same?!” responded Yennefer with anger and immediately her lover’s gaze lessened.

“I’m sorry,” she said while hugging her “I’m worried for them.” Yen put her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Me too. I just wanted to help, you know.” 

Triss stroked her back, and that simple gesture was enough to comfort her. She kissed her temple and said: 

“I know, baby, I know.”

It had started to rain not so long ago. They heard thunders not far from there.

“What are we going to do now? What if they hate us forever and we never see them again?”

“Yen, you need to calm down. Geralt loves us both too much to be mad at us, and I know Jaskier will get over it.”

The purple-eyed one broke the embrace and went to look through the window. She hoped the bad weather would end soon because it was depressing her more.

“I wanted to hear Geralt laughing again, to see them happy together. But look at what happened. Their relationship is ruined now.” Yennefer sighed.

The shouting stopped and, then, the witches heard the front door opening with too much force. Yen felt Triss behind her trying to discern their friends’ figures through the glass. 

“Jaskier! Can’t you fucking wait?” they heard the witcher screaming and saw them standing in the street, rain soaking them while they talked.

“Maybe you were wrong after all,” said her girlfriend ”maybe there’s still hope.”

***

**JASKIER**

He only wanted to go to his tavern as fast as possible. All his clothes were drenched, and it was impossible to know what was rain and what were tears on his face.

Jaskier’s heart ached a lot.

However, time seemed to froze when he heard the witcher calling him. 

“Jaskier! Can’t you fucking wait?” 

The young man didn’t know why, but he did as he told. A little spark of hope started to build up in him. Fuck.

When the bard turned to the witcher, he didn’t expect them to be so close. Geralt’s white hair had flattened because of the rain, but his armour seemed intact. Why was he wearing it for dinner? He looked so good like that anyway. 

Nope. He didn’t think that. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” asked the witcher. The storm stopped as fast as it had begun. 

The air between them was full of tension, and they became more aware of each other.

“I’m going to my tavern. I have a festival coming, you know, and I need to sleep a little” he knew his tone wasn’t light at all. He didn’t give a fuck. He just wanted to cry and sleep. 

Geralt gave the impression of wanting to say something. He stepped closer and took out of his armour (Jaskier didn’t know it had pockets) the notebook. 

“Take it,” said Geralt. When their eyes met, Jaskier saw the pain in them “It’s yours after all.”

“Why are you giving it to me now?”

“I… because I’m going tomorrow and you can take better care of it.”

Jaskier, with the journal in his hands now, couldn’t restrain himself from asking another question. 

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. Where I’m needed, I guess.”

_ Say something more. Please. _

He didn’t.

“So I suppose this is a goodbye?” he didn’t even try to hide the disappointment in his words.

Geralt flinched, then looked away.

“Yeah, I think it is.”

The witcher turned away and went back to Yen and Triss’ house without glancing back once. Jaskier was left alone in the dark street, his heart crushed to pieces and crying. 

If the wound had been healing, why did it hurt so much more than the first time his heart had been broken?

***

**GERALT**

The witcher didn’t go back to his room. 

He went to the stables, to Roach. She whinnied, greeting him when he caressed her softly.

“I don’t know if I did the right thing,” Geral whispered “but I hope he reads the last pages of the journal. Maybe he’ll understand me then.”

Maybe he’d understand how much Geralt had loved him too. How he still loved him.


	4. A wound that can't be seen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you have another chapter! Thanks again for the support and I hope you're liking it so far <3 Enjoy :)))

_ Take my mind _

_ And take my pain _

_ Like an empty bottle takes the rain _

_ And heal, heal, heal, heal _

_ And take my past _

_ And take my sense _

_ Like an empty sail takes the wind _

_ And heal, heal, heal, heal _

***

**JASKIER**

After their conversation, the bard had gone to the tavern where he was staying in and avoided everyone that tried to talk to him. 

Jaskier, throwing himself at the bed, stared at the ceiling for some seconds before subbing uncontrollably. He covered his face with his hands. 

How? How could the whole conversation go so badly? Why couldn’t they talk like normal people? Was it so hard for the witcher to look at him, knowing what he had felt over the years? Did the bard disgust him? 

Wait. No. This wasn’t the young man’s fault. Why didn’t Geralt come earlier to him, asked for forgiveness when the dragon hunt was still fresh in their minds?

_ He was ashamed. Ashamed of his behaviour towards me.  _

And… and the witcher had kept the notebook for so long… The look on his face when he gave it to Jaskier… It was just too much.

The bard reached for the journal, which was on the nightstand, and examined it. 

The leather that bound it was a little worn off, something he didn’t mind. When the pages revealed themselves before him, it was like coming home after a long time. 

There were his most famous compositions and others that no one but him (and Geralt) had read. His fingers danced over the lyrics of  _ Her sweet kiss _ , fresh tears streaming down his face when he remembered again everything that had happened.

Jaskier turned the page to see the last thing he had written on the journal, a letter to Geralt. He’d intended to give it to the witcher before packing his things and disappearing from his life. Something stopped him, though- a voice in the bard’s head, saying it was a bad idea, that Geralt didn’t deserve his explanations. 

He had waited hours at the camp, wanting to talk about it properly. No one had come. Jaskier had assumed that the witch and Yennefer were talking or something else. 

So, in tears, he had left without wasting more time. 

_ Dear Geralt, _

_ the years that I’ve spent with you have taught me a big lesson. I can’t make someone love me, even though it’s the only thing I want, even though it’s what my heart has desired since the day we met.  _

_ When we first started to travel together I knew what was I leaving behind, but soon I found myself adoring every moment, good or bad, that I spent with you.  _

_ I would’ve died so many times if you weren’t there- you have saved me from so many monsters (and angry husband), and I’ll always be grateful for that.  _

_ Now, however, I have a wound that no one can see or heal. A wound that opens and hurts when I look at you. A wound that has been present in my life since someone arrived in yours. I thought it was just us, the witcher and his bard, against the evil world- I didn’t care, at first, if you loved her. The only thing I wanted was to be by your side, forever. _

_ But destiny doesn’t want that, I guess.  _

_ Your wishes are my commands, you won’t have to see me ever again. The only thing I want you to know is that I love you, I always did. _

_ Goodbye, _

_ Jaskier.  _

A fucking idiot. That’s what the bard had been.

How could he forget the notebook there? 

It didn’t matter now, because Geralt had read it. 

Geralt, who was going away. Without him. 

And Jaskier knew it had been his poetic mind’s fault of seeing things that weren’t there. The dinner was just an example- the witcher wanted to apologize and that was all. All the pain, his devastated face, was just a product of the bard’s aching heart.

How long had he been staring at those pages? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

He had a festival coming, and it was important he slept enough hours. 

_ Stop lying to yourself. You want to run to him now, but you won’t.  _

“Ugh, shut up mind.”, he said to himself while closing the journal. How could his own thoughts go against him?

_ He doesn’t love you, he never did.  _

“Shut up.”

_ How many songs are you going to write about him after this? Another hundred? _

“I SAID SHUT UP” shouted the bard. He threw the notebook against the wall that was in front of his bed. Jaskier sighed. His head was finally silent.

“I hate him. I hate the fucking bastard” he muttered before standing up and taking the journal from the floor. When he did it, something fell again.

It was a torn page, folded a lot of times.

“What the…?” he asked as his hands unfolded it. Was it an old song he wasn’t sure of?

No, that scrappy handwriting wasn’t his. It was Geralt’s. 

“What is this?”

Jaskier’s heart started racing really fast when he began to read.

_ The first time we rode on Roach together and he wouldn’t stop complaining. _

_ The first time he washed my hair. When he braided it. _

_ The first time he helped me clean a wound. When he stayed awake the whole night, in case I got worse.  _

_ One summer, when we were camping in the forest. The warm smile he gave me after I laughed at his joke.  _

_ When he thought I was asleep and told me he cared for me.  _

_ Each time he told me I was more than a witcher, that I wasn’t a monster. That I had feelings just like the others. _

_ When he made two flower crowns, obliging me to wear one for a whole day and telling me I looked gorgeous with it.  _

_ When I saw him playing with children, singing and laughing. _

_ The day of the dragon hunt, when I told him to go away. _

_ Every day after that.  _

***

**GERALT**

Geralt spent most of the night with Roach, then cleaned the mess he had made in the dining room and finally went to his chambers. 

The witcher was packing his belongings without being really there. His head was still replaying every detail of the past night- every scream, every word, the pain in Jaskier’s eyes…

Nevertheless, he heard her long before Yen opened the door and entered the room. It wasn’t necessary to look at her to know she had been crying; the witch’s voice cracked when she began to talk behind him. 

“Geralt, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think that your reunion would end like that.”

He smirked.

“What did you expect? You thought we were going to be hugging and laughing the first second we saw each other?” there was pure venom in his voice. The witcher turned to face her “The thing that  _ I  _ didn’t expect was that you would act so foolishly, Yen. I’m disappointed in you because you did this to us without our consent, but I’m not mad at you.”

“All I wanted was to make things right.”

“You should’ve let us handle ourselves. We’re not kids.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.” she sobbed.

“Stop apologizing. I know you did it with good intentions.”, Geralt took his travel bag from the bed before talking again. “I’m mad at myself.”

“Why?”

“For being a coward. For not saying enough.”

He started to walk towards the door but she intercepted him. 

“Yen, let me go.”

She didn’t do as told. One of her hands cupped, instead, carefully Geralt’s face. 

“I’ve been so blind.”, the witch started. Her eyes met his. “I thought you loved him because you were really close friends. Losing him made you so devastated and I understood it as a pain of losing a brother. But now I understand it. You  _ loved _ him.”

“I’ve been blind too.”

“And when did you realise it?”

“When I stopped believing witchers didn’t have feelings, the day I met him.”

“But why didn’t you tell him?” she wasn’t crying any longer. Her fingers stroked his cheek. “Why didn’t you say you loved him?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if… It doesn’t matter now.”

Geralt could hear how full of pain were his words. He couldn’t hide it any longer, couldn’t put a mask and tell he hadn’t feelings. 

Yennefer hugged him unexpectedly. Her arms closed around his neck, and she put her head on the crook of his neck. He didn’t know exactly what to do but to hold her back with his free arm. 

The witcher felt comforted somehow, even though he didn’t like people touching him. The bard was an exception, of course.

“Will you come back?” she whispered. “Will you forgive me for everything I did?”

“I said it before and I’m saying it now: I’m not upset,” he answered with the same tone, “but I’ll need some time.”

They remained like that for a while.

The first rays of sun were entering the room and the neighbourhood had started to wake up.

“When Triss and you adopt your kids, I’ll be there. I’ll be their cool uncle.”, they both chuckled a little. 

“You have the key, though.”

“Hmm.”

“You can come whenever you want, spend some days here.”

“Hmm.”

They broke their embrace, but one of Yen’s hands was still on his arm.

“Where I can find you if you’re needed?”

_ If Jaskier needs you _ , was implied in her words. He sighed. 

“Goodbye, Yen.”

“Goodbye, Geralt.”

The witcher knew that it wasn’t a forever farewell. However, it would be a while before they saw each other again. 

As he mounted on Roach and began his journey, Geralt told himself it was for the best. 

If he wanted, he could track Jaskier, tell him all the things he didn’t before. Even now, the witcher caught his gaze wandering through the crowd in hopes to find a familiar face. Those cyan eyes.

_ It was for the best.  _

If he put distance between them, Jaskier wouldn’t get hurt by his actions. 

If he put distance between them, maybe Geralt wouldn’t want to kiss him. To scream how much he loved him.

***

**JASKIER**

He was running like crazy, pushing everyone that was on his way. He had forgotten about the final rehearsals, his lute waiting for him in the tavern, and was now clutching desperately the notebook to his chest. 

He arrived at Triss and Yen’s house and started screaming their names. Soon someone opened the door. It was Yen. 

“Jaskier, what are you doing here?”

“Where is Geralt?” he demanded. “WHERE IS HE?”

“Jaskier calm down! He’s gone!” screamed Yen back to him. When the bard started running again, she added “Wait! Take our horse, you’ll go faster like that!”

Love makes us do stupid or dangerous things. That’s why he mounted on the animal and rode as fast as he could.

People screamed things at him, he almost ran over someone and felt like he was going to fell off the saddle at any moment. 

It didn’t matter, the bard needed to get to Geralt, punch him in the face and then kiss him. 


	5. Talk to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the love, really <3 this chapter and the next one are my favs

_ And I'll run to you when the waters rise _

_ And I'll run to you if the bombs ignite _

_ I'll still call to you if I lose my sight _

_ And I'll fall for you if you need a fight _

***

**GERALT**

Geralt left the festival and all the packed crowd behind. When he started to lose sight of Novigrad, the nod in his chest tightened. 

_ It was for the best. _

The witcher was riding slowly Roach, so slowly that it seemed like they weren’t moving at all.  _ It was for the best _ . 

Now the only possession he still had, the only thing that made him smile, was the thin chain around his neck. Jaskier had gifted it to him the fourth or fifth year they had travelled together, saying it was just an accessory that would look great on him. However, when the witcher had put the necklace on, the bard’s eyes had softened immediately. 

He never took it off after that. 

The notebook had meant a lot to him too. Geralt wasn’t sure if it had been a good idea to give it back, knowing that Jaskier would find _ the list  _ sooner or later. 

There was nothing he could do now. 

“Fuck.” 

The witcher slowed down Roach even more. The mare stopped walking and whinnied as if she was telling him to decide what he wanted. 

Geralt rubbed his face, dismounted and started pacing around the animal. Why was the air so thick, why couldn’t he breathe? 

Should he come back? Should he forget the bard? 

What if Jaskier didn’t want to see him at all? It was clear that he was really angry with him still.

“FUCK” he screamed to the trees. 

You know what? 

Fuck it. 

Fuck all of it. 

He was going to find Jaskier, apologize properly and then… then what? The witcher’s existential crisis ended the moment he heard a horse, not so far from there, galloping. Was that the scent of…?

“GERALT!” shouted a particular voice behind him. 

***

**JASKIER**

He was panting and feeling like his lungs weren’t working anymore when he stopped his horse and ran to the witcher. Why was he standing there? Was Roach hurt? Was Geralt hurt?

It didn’t matter now. 

“Jaskier, what are you…?” started to ask Geralt while walking towards him. The bard took his chance and, at the moment there was enough distance between them, hit him with the notebook. 

Geralt grabbed his bruised shoulder (they both knew he hadn’t hurt him at all) and looked at Jaskier, totally confused. 

“What was that for, you idiot?!” 

“What was that for you ask?! You can’t” he hit him again “give this” and again “to me and then go without any other explanation!”

“CAN YOU STOP HITTING ME WITH THAT?” the witcher managed to take the journal from his hands. He held it high in the air and, with his left arm, gripped Jaskier’s shirt. 

The bard shoved him off. 

“CAN  _ YOU _ STOP BEING A COMPLETE PAIN IN THE ASS FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND?” he screamed and pushed Geralt. 

Jaskier saw the tension he was feeling on the other’s body. 

“Can you fucking stop?” the witcher asked too calmly. 

“No.” he pushed him again. 

“That’s it.” Geralt’s big hands sealed around Jaskier’s shoulders before pressing him against a tree. 

If the young man wasn’t so angry he would’ve leaned into Geralt’s touch, demanded  _ more _ . The warm weather nor the sudden proximity of the witcher’s face helped him focus.

“What do you want?” they said at the same time. 

“What do you want?” repeated the white-haired one, his voice softer. 

They were so close. 

He wanted a fucking explanation.

“Why didn’t you give me the notebook earlier… what does the list mean?” the bard saw the recognition shining in those amber eyes. The witcher looked everywhere that wasn’t his face. 

“I told you. I was ashamed of how…”

“Oh, can you give me a good answer, for once?”

It wasn’t because of that, they knew it. He needed Geralt to say it out loud.

“Can you stop talking and listen?”, Jaskier nodded and the witcher sighed. He moved some feet away, but the bard remained there, using the tree as the only restrain from running towards him and kissing him.

“When I returned to the camp that day and saw that you were truly gone… I realised… ugh… I read the letter…” Geralt was struggling to tell what was he feeling. He rubbed his face “I tracked you. I found you so many times and heard you singing and…”

“Why didn’t you talk to me? What did you think I’d do if you apologised?”

“I wasn’t ready to talk about it. I thought you would disappear again completely if I tried to approach you.”

“I wasn’t ready to talk to you either, Geralt. I wasn’t ready when I saw you last night. On the dragon hunt, you tossed me like common garbage and I was so hurt…” now he was the one who couldn’t articulate a proper sentence. “All these years I’ve looked for you in every tavern I’ve been, wanted so desperately to see you, sitting in a corner like always. And even though I was less prepared to face you than I am now, I could’ve tried to talk about what happened. I wouldn’t have run away like you’re doing now.”

The witcher frowned.

“I’m not running away, I was trying no to hurt you more. You made it clear yesterday that you didn’t want me there.”

“For fuck’s sake, just admit that you’re a coward. You can’t accept that you felt, too, something for me. That’s why you gave me the list.”

“What do you want me to say if you’re talking for me?!” said the witcher, frustration present in his voice. 

“I thought you were capable of talking about it, but I see you’re not.” answered the bard and started to walk away, towards the road and his horse. He had been so stupid. And no, he wasn’t going to cry again. 

“Wait…” he heard Geralt behind him, his hand gripping his wrist and making him turn. It burned. It’s curious how the only place Jaskier wanted to be was there, even if it meant arguing more. Everything about Geralt, from his soft touch to the pain in his eyes, begged him to stay. So he did.

The witcher’s finger caressed his hand. He knew how much it meant for Geralt to do that. 

“I started to write that list when I first read your letter, two months after the dragon hunt. Those are moments that we spent together, moments where I didn’t know what was happening to me... Why was I feeling that way.” He was looking at Jaskier’s eyes, and it was like a door had been unlocked. He saw how open he was, how vulnerable he was. “You made me feel like I wasn’t a monster. You made me realise I had feelings.” he paused again. “ And I hate myself for every bad word, every disrespectful comment I’ve said to you.”

The bard waited for him to continue, but then the witcher _ kneeled _ . Jaskier wanted to calm himself, slow his heartbeat because he was sure he was going to explode at any second. The bard failed

“I wrote that list to understand how much I loved you- but the truth is I knew it long before we parted our ways and, as you say, I was a complete coward for not accepting it.”

“Geralt…”

“I won’t be a coward now.” Geralt reached out for his other hand “Julian Alfred Pankratz, my dandelion, my bard: I love you, and I always will.”

Jaskier had to convince himself that what was happening wasn’t a dream. It was better.

“Geralt…” 

“I know you’re still hurt. Please… please forgive me for everything I did. My only hope is that someday your heart will heal and you will be able to love me too. If not…”

“You’re the one who won’t stop talking now.” the bard interrupted, crying, before lowering himself to the witcher’s level and kissing him softly. They pressed their foreheads together. 

“I love you too,” said Jaskier, pure adoration in his eyes “you’re the only one I’ll ever love.”

  
  


***

**GERALT**

After Jaskier and the witcher had spoken in the forest they came back to Novigrad, talked to their friends and accepted their apologies for everything, even though they weren’t mad at the at all. 

The festival had been a great spectacle for Geralt, partly because Jaskier kept going backstage to kiss him briefly between songs. When the bard’s performance ended, they went to Triss and Yen’s house (which they’d used as a residence the whole week.) It was the longest vacation Geralt had had in his _ long  _ life. 

The witcher was going to miss his friends. However, he didn’t say a word while they were having dinner their last night there. He let Jaskier talk about how the crowd was amazing and that it had been a great pleasure to close the festival. 

The witcher hoped no one had noticed his discomfort.

The sun had begun to rise and he hadn’t slept at all. 

Jaskier was awake too, his head on Geralt’s chest. They remained in silence, not because they didn’t know what to say but because it was peaceful and intimate. It was like a little bubble, a whole new world, and they were the only people that existed there. 

They loved each other so much it hurt. 

The bard was playing with the necklace, his fingers dancing around the chain. Geralt kissed Jaskier’s head, absently, while he caressed his naked back. 

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” Jaskier asked quietly.

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Geralt.”

“Jask.” he answered with the same impatient tone.

“We agreed we’d try to communicate more.” the bard shifted his position, and now was lying on his left side. His gaze was even more penetrating form that angle. “You were really quiet last night, more than usual. I know something is wrong. Tell me, please.”

Geralt sighed and imitated his lover’s positions, facing him. 

“Are you sure you want to go with me, go monster hunting and all that? Don’t you want to stay here, somewhere safe? Don’t you want to have a home?”

His bard stroked his face before answering. 

“Geralt, my dear, the safest place I could be is by your side.” he smiled softly when saying it. “And I feel like home whenever I’m near you, it doesn’t matter where we are. You are my home..”

It was like someone had lifted a burden from his shoulders. He smiled. 

“You’re my home too, Jask.”


	6. A soft end

_ My struggle is harsh and I come back _

_ with eyes tired _

_ at times from having seen _

_ the unchanging earth, _

_ but when your laughter enters _

_ it rises to the sky seeking me _

_ and it opens for me all _

_ the doors of life. _

_ My love, in the darkest _

_ hour your laughter _

_ opens, and if suddenly _

_ you see my blood staining _

_ the stones of the street, _

_ laugh, because your laughter _

_ will be for my hands _

_ like a fresh sword _

Years passed. 

Yenn and Triss adopted two kids: Lena and Aleks. Geralt and Jaskier came to see them as often as they could, sometimes they spent whole winters there. 

When the kids were little, they would sit on the witcher’s lap and listen to him for hours while he described the monsters (avoiding gross details, of course) he had encountered on the road. Jaskier and the two witches always watched them in silence, their hearts full of love. 

The bard would sing softly at night, when he put his niece and nephew to bed, about the adventures of the White Wolf and his bard. Before falling asleep, they would ask him to tell them the story of he and uncle Geralt had met. 

When Triss and Yen got married, one particularly hot summer, a shy Geralt had said a simple proposition for anyone who’d hear it. But to Jaskier, it meant a lot more. 

“We could head to the coast. Get away for a while.”

_ Life is too short. _

“We could.” he had answered, hugging his boyfriend. 

No one had expected the witcher’s early retirement, and no one commented anything about it.

When there was any monster in their village, or in a near one, he killed it. It took time, but people started to respect him for keeping them safe- Geralt felt strange the first times someone had greeted him or smiled at him.

Jaskier and he had a beautiful cottage, and on sunny days they would go to the beach, have a little picnic there. Sometimes, his bard would perform in taverns just for the sake of it. Geralt would watch him from a corner, a smile and adoration on his face.

Summer was the best part of the year because they went on little trips everywhere. They gave surprise visits to their family in Novigrad, spend some days there before continuing with their journeys.

When Geralt couldn’t sleep because of his nightmares, Jaskier would stroke his hair or sing beautiful ballads to him. 

Other nights, drunk and laughing non-stop, they’d dance in their living room like they were in a ball. Jaskier would put his head on the crook of his lover’s neck, close his eyes and immediately think:  _ home _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the fic and the ending <3 I wanted to give them a soft and fluffy ending.


End file.
